Modern Emblem
by Navarre for GOAT tier
Summary: A modernized version of Fire Emblem Shadow Dragon. This story follows the story of Navarre, an Assassin Hitman who is absorbed into the conflict after Princess Sheeda contracts him. Oh, guess. It's an alternate universe. I'm definitely going to have OOC moments.
1. Prelude

**Hi Guys!  
I used to be on , and I have recently returned! Yay for amateur writing!**

**This story is… well, Fire Emblem (Altean Universe) modernized. Here's the guide to reading the story:**

It is the year 2030. The events of the first rebellion by prince Anri have passed. Since then, the Holy Falchion has been melted down and infused into the mighty FALC-50, a multiple use assault rifle that requires no ammunition to fire. The mighty weapons of the house Akaneia have been passed down and melted down into similar weapons.

A League of Nations links all the countries in Akaneia.

Now, trouble lurks again in the continent of Akaneia. The Constitutional-Monarchy of Altea has dispatched all but the most elite of its royal guard to deal with an insurrection, including King Cornelius. The Communist-Capitalist nation of Gra supports Altea as an ally. The rebellion thought to be lead by Theocracy of Khadien and the Holy Empire of Doluna. Classified power and trade agreements link Khadien, Doluna, and Gra, though the Chairman Jiol has been convinced that betraying Altea would be a better choice. Khadien and Doluna are openly supported by the Military Dictatorship of Macedonia, and the Republic of Grust.

The war was declared on the Akaneian Empire, the liberal monarchy that controls the League of Nations. However, it became entangled with personal affairs, and Princess Nyna was forced to flee to the Republic of Orleans. Around the same time, Chairman Jiol openly betrayed King Cornelius and crushed his military force. The remnants of the army have fled to various places around the globe. From these events on, the war has been sluggish and unchanging.

- Present tense time!-

The remnants of the Altean Army arise to take the challenge of reversing the tide of the war. Prince Marth and his ailing advisors arrive in the Ghoul's Teeth Mountains. A terrorist group known as the Soothsayers is keeping a priestess and experienced field medic there.

The story begins following the lightning quick Navarre; an assassin mercenary skilled in rifle usage.

**MORE INFO:**

There exists no weapon triangle. Often, classes will have multiple weapons used.

Weapons will include: Explosives, SMGs, Assault Rifles, Field-use Machine Guns, Heavy Machine Guns, Rifles, Shotguns, pistols, and knives

Armored units will be tanks, mounted units will be armored vehicles, and flying units will be either helicopters or fighter planes.

Mages will be mages, and Manaketes will remain Manaketes. No need to change any of that.

Clerics/Curates use med-kits. Each med-kit restores an unknown amount of life.


	2. Chapter 1: Crimson Edge

**Still don't own jack. I don't own Jill either for that matter. **

**Chapter One – Crimson Edge**

_Transcript to Navarre:_

_Boss: Navarre, can you hear me?_

_Navarre: …Yes._

_Boss: I want you to go out and gather intel on the Altean movements. _

_Navarre: …Alright._

_Boss: Then, thin out the enemy lines. Take a KILL-EDGE and a Type-IRON for back-up. _

_Navarre: …I got it. _

_Boss: Your pay will be anything you loot plus 25% of the pay from Grust. Good luck. I'm counting on you._

Ever silent, vigilant.

Those were seven syllables that described Navarre.

He was dressed in black and grey camouflage. Standing at 73 inches tall and unusually fit, Navarre was the ideal man for missions that required athleticism. His stealth was his prized possession, along with his abnormal speed and aim. He had long flowing black hair which he usually had tucked into his helmet. His eyes were black though they glowed abnormally red from a nuclear accident many years ago. In short, he was the perfect killer.

He lay crouched in the high parts of the mountains, waiting for the first unsuspecting victim to emerge from the wasteland of gray. In his hand was a slightly modified KILL-EDGE, a sniper rifle that was modified for burst fire use in the case that he was ambushed. Even with low grade suppressors, there was nearly nothing taken off the bullets.

Just then, first watch signaled that there was something coming through the mountain pass.

An ordinary group of infantry units armed with simple Mark-IRON assault rifles marched through the gray. Simply dressed in combat vests and camouflage clothing, they were noticeably harder to spot with the naked eye than the ordinary villager. Navarre picked up the sniper rifle and set up the stand. He loaded the magazine and looked carefully though his sights.

Altean soldiers. They were lead by an officer who was carrying a Mark-STEEL.

"I'm horribly out of practice. It's been a while since I was fighting a real battle," Navarre whispered. He took aim and fired.

He was lucky that he hit anything. One soldier fell, although not the officer with the Mark-STEEL. Navarre moved into cover before any of the others could notice. His second shot took the officer's guard.

"Worthless Suppressor." Navarre tossed it aside.

This time he fired again, but he caught the officer's second guard. The officer now turned to face him. Navarre had just begun to disappear when a shot whizzed through the air and took off his shoulder guard. He switched to burst fire and tossed an explosive down the mountain pass.

**Oguma: **

"Blasted Fool." Oguma slipped under cover as he reloaded his Mark-STEEL. The captain/officer wondered how the Soothsayers obtained such a marksman in combat. Time was running out for him, and his troops were falling one by one. It was impossible; Oguma never lost more than six casualties per battle.

The tenth man in the squad dropped, silenced by one bullet though the chest.

Oguma resumed firing towards the main force of the enemy, who were gaining ground steadily after the shield of bullets from Oguma's unit thinned.

Oguma tensed. He would have to call for help via Princess Sheeda's air battalion or risk jeopardizing the mission. His hands fingered the top of the radio nervously. He glared around at the men protecting them. _If I can just- _

"Fall back!" Oguma yelled. He turned to run to point B, now fortified by the vehicle cavalry. Just then, he felt a pain all too familiar in his shoulder. _Not now. Please… anything but this. I have to-_

Just then, the Mark-STEEL ran out of ammunition. He instinctively reached towards his pistol, but the ammunition for his pistol was too limited. _You'd think they'd arm us better for such a mission. You'd think that Prince Marth and Jagen might know a bit more about…_

Oguma saw a familiar shape in the sky just as he looked up. He ran faster. Help was on the way.

**Navarre:**

Navarre was visibly stunned. The air raid had begun and he had no heavy weapons to remotely damage the planes. The problem, however, wasn't with the crude bombers. It was with the armed helicopter that blazed fire at anything that moved within its attack radius. He would be found if he tried to take out the pilot of the helicopter and likely killed by the turret or cannons. The suppressor would only weaken his shots. Realizing that he had vastly underestimated his opponents, he scowled and retreated into cover.

Navarre sneaked into a more naturally guarded area and clamped his hands over his ears as yet another explosion took place. The passage was too narrow for vehicles, aircraft or not. He picked off about four soldiers before checking outside again. The helicopter was still there, but it was hovering low enough for him to at least scare the pilot out of his mind.

Navarre stepped outside and calmly fired a shot at the pilot's cockpit. The glass shattered. However, the helicopter made a 180 degree turn and turned to blaze fire upon him.

_I'm screwed. _He dove for the nearest natural cover, yet that was soon torn to pieces by the bullets. He had no choice.

He reached for an explosive in his pocket. Pulling the pin, he made a blind throw towards the helicopter, which was drifting closer and closer to his position.

The helicopter's engine soon stopped.

The pilot and his lone gunner dismounted.

He quickly reloaded his KILL-EDGE and set it to semi-automatic. He was prepared for a fight. However, the pilot took off his mask. Navarre ceased fire as the pilot signaled for truce.

_A woman?!_

"Hail, Navarre! Are you the one known as the Crimson Edge?" She shouted.

"What is your purpose, here? Fly away girl, before someone decides to swat at you."

She shifted nervously. "What is your purpose in working with Soothsayer terrorists anyways? Money, Fame? Your causes are not just, but there can be a point in your struggle!"

"Or perhaps reasons unknown? Who are you to judge me and my actions?"

"Touché. I suppose then you will turn your blade upon me and silence me, then? I have no fear of death."

"Nay, I turn no blade of mine upon a woman." He smiled. "It's been a long time since I've met someone with as much courage as you. I would be happy to contract with you. Show me this reason in which men should fight."

Sheeda smiled, "Your contract is simple. You will fight for the Altean Military as a special operations unit. In return… I shall grant you money and safe living once the war is over."

"Done."

They shook hands, with the gunner as the witness.

_What an interesting girl… _

"I assume it is the central base you are looking for? Come, I shall take you there."

Navarre got in the helicopter. It was going to be good hunting putting a bullet in the highway robbers' heads.

_Transcript:_

_Sheeda: Marth, I found him!_

_Marth: Great! Now all we need to do is retrieve Rena's medkits. _

_Sheeda: I know. I think we can get the Med-Kits. Navarre can show us the-_

_Marth: Hold on. You're trusting an assassin and cold blooded murderer to do-_

_Sheeda: He's not a normal man, Marth. He's contracted to me, or rather the military._

_Marth: Still, he's a murderer. Have you heard the tales about him? _

_Sheeda: I have. _

_Marth: Then how could you trust him?_

_Sheeda: I'm just trying to get all the help that we can get._

_Marth: Fine then. Fine._

_Sheeda: Speak with him after the battle. He just got their boss with a bullet through the head. _

_Marth: Fine. I shall. Goodbye._

_Sheeda: *sigh* _


	3. Chapter 2: Lea

**See Note in Chapter One:**

_Transcript from the Night Before:_

_Marth: Here is your formal contract Navarre. I understand that you giving me your word isn't up to your customs. So, I had my advisors draft this. It's the same contract the Princess gave to you during the Siege of the Ghoul's Teeth._

_Navarre: Give me a day to read it. I must check it to make sure it is written correctly. Do you require a signature? _

_Marth: I do. (Navarre is out of earshot.) Are they all this… disrespectful to royalty._

_Behind the Scenes: _

_Navarre: Hm… let's see. Huh. I'm an entire unit of my own. My ability is really living up to its name. I take orders specifically from the commanders. This might be interesting._

_Later…_

_Navarre: Here. I have signed it. _

_Marth: Hmph. I should have put in it that you have to call me "My Lord"._

_Navarre: Yet until you father was killed, you were a political pawn not worthy of lordship. The same with the Princess you travel with. False royalty with no power._

_Marth: While you raise a valid point, I haven't met a commoner like you._

_Navarre: You shouldn't regard us with such disregard. I've been responsible for several nobility deaths already… And I've only been killing for 8 years. Common-_

_Marth: I'm sorry, Navarre. It just occurred to me that some of the Generals might be hearing you speak. They are quite loyal. However, I wish to speak of this matter again. Meet me the night after the battle if you are still alive._

**_Navarre:_**

Navarre was puzzled.

He felt as if the military did not suit him. There was too much attention given to him since he bore the flag of the special operation forces yet he did not eat, sleep, or talk with the other special operations soldiers. There were rumors that he was of royalty or a new personal slave of the princess. More than a few times, individual soldiers had the nerve to ask him if he was either. He rejected both rumors, disgusted with the fact that they might associate him with royalty or slavery.

He tapped his KILL-EDGE impatiently. The man calling himself Prince Marth would have redistributed the KILL-EDGE had it not been extremely difficult to use for the ordinary soldier. This gun was his. There was no one in the world who could wield it, as it was modified heavily. The recoil patterns were specifically adjusted so that only he could read them. The scope was removable, and required a password to access. Navarre was about to modify the weapon for fully automatic fire, but he decided that the recoil patterns might become too unpredictable. Thus, he retained the fire-modes that he had decided to use.

A good day in the technology room had certainly paid off. Especially when he was starting off.

**(author's note: So… the KILL-EDGE is "forged". However, there probably won't be anyone wielding it except for myrmidons/marksmen and swordmasters/hell-shots)**

The armory's attendant handed Navarre an assault rifle: the MARK-STEEL. Though not as fast or powerful as the KILL-EDGE, it certainly did its job correctly. He took it out for a firing test later that day. About a mere bullet in to the test, he decided that the MARK-STEEL was absolutely worthless due to the unnecessary heaviness and disgusting accuracy.

Navarre donned a thick overcoat to cover the evidence that he was an Altean soldier. He moved into a nearby tavern and tried to listen to the other men. He bought nothing but an apple and listened to the conversation.

"Oh yeah! I hear the Arena fighters aren't any good around here, but they still look like they can shoot!"

"Didja hear about the Altean knights coming up here? This place is so fortified. In fact, there are heavy Vehicle and Tank fortifications here."

"Fighters… I hate fighters."

He shifted slightly in his seat. A person had joined him at his table. Green haired and garbed in blue, he had a certain aura about him that suggested great power.

"Long day, eh? A drink perhaps?" the stranger asked

"No, but thank you," Navarre replied.

"Hm… I see. Are you from around these parts?"

"No."

"Neither am I. I used to be a magic student at Khadien until it fell to the Darkness Cult Faction."

"Huh."

"My name is Merric. Sorry… you just struck me as someone interesting and as someone who might be able to lead me to a long lost friend."

"Pardon?"

"Don't deny it. The garb you wear is from either Talys or Altea. It was quite an obvious giveaway that you are an Altean soldier in disguise." (Navarre cursed silently. He thought that the garb seemed too suspicious.)

"And you have me in checkmate. I can't draw a pistol at you in a tavern like this." Navarre squeezed the tranquilizer shot in his hands.

"Well, there would be no need. I'm one of the prince's closest friends."

"I'd assume so. Here's a beacon. If you are hostile… hopefully you can lie as well as you did to me." Navarre got up from his seat and left immediately.

He relayed information to the prince. He set out for the arena and turned his receiver off.

After successfully winning a series of successful fights, he pocketed his small fortune and felt more awake than he had at dawn. He waited for orders from the prince.

***Captain Lucas' POV (Original Character, don't worry. His purpose is to die.)***

At noon, the infantry in the area could not report for duty. Rumor had it that a single sniper blew through the 4 squads that were sent to intercept the Altean army.

Captain Lucas later was informed that the Royal Guard of Talys and the remnants of the Royal Guard of Altea had taken the other 2 squads by again reading their movements. He looked around nervously. How in the world could the enemy gain such intelligence so quickly? He changed communication channels.

The tree behind him rustled. It revealed a glow of red that instantly vanished after a fraction of a second.

Suspecting nothing, he continued to relay information until 14:00.

Just before the vehicle and tank cavalry arrived, he realized that they had no reinforcements left. He relayed which formations they were to use; simple tactics that were safe for superior numbers. He reasoned that using the cavalry to surround individual units or squads would prove to be an excellent strategy.

Just as he finished ordering the cavalry to their next position, he learned that the Altean army had predicted their moves. He cursed himself for being so predictable. Now the main force might suffer at the hands of enemy explosives units or enemy tanks. He just had to find a way to maneuver the second wave lead my Mattias whose beacon had just disappeared.

Mattias was gone, but his troops were still useful for surrounding the Altean Army. He ordered Mattias' unit to flank the Alteans. The units disappeared on the map after engaging with the Royal guard.

Captain Lucas cursed his luck. What more could be done?

He finally ordered his tank unit to provide suppressive fire. This proved to be most of use as the Alteans retreated on the map. He sighed in relief. He closed his eyes for a second and then turned back to the map.

A classic feigned retreat. The unit was going to lose in the firefight.

Who was commanding and predicting his moves? Nevertheless, he still had his tanks. He ordered them forward.

He looked up at the sky. A helicopter was floating over the tanks, showering them with deadly WING bullets. The circuits of the tanks were sure to give out at this point. No use for them. The anti-air legions would have to deal with the helicopter.

He started to order them forward when he thought otherwise. He lined them up across the bridge and spanned them across the river. They were about to fire at the helicopter when suddenly a vapor trail appeared from out of nowhere.

The gunners each fell to the ground. The drivers and passengers soon fell after.

He cursed himself for using open vehicles. Sure they were fast, but there was no guaranteed protection. He should have just sent an average anti-air heavy artillery unit to deal with the pilot. But then he remembered… the vapor trail.

He heard someone cock a pistol.

An Altean soldier unlike any other one he had seen emerged from the now ruined trees behind him. The soldier smirked at him.

"Checkmate."

**Navarre**

The real commander of the battle lay dead at his feet. There was still one unit guarding the gate. However, that was not his fight. Navarre turned away from his hiding spot.

"Well played, Grust and Macedonia. Well played."

Navarre reloaded the KILL-EDGE and walked away.

**My military strategy isn't the greatest.**

**I don't have a beta reader yet either! This is fine… since I only have a chapter and a half that I wrote. **

**Chapter Three will feature some conversation and a battle.**

**Feel free to review.**


	4. Chapter 3: The champions of Orleans

**DON'T OWN ANYTHING… YET. I shall take over the world.**

**Here are some author replies:**

** Clevername (review 2): Keep in mind that this story is written in Navarre's view POV in a limited 3****rd**** person. Marth will seem like a prissy at first because he hasn't really seen enough war. He'll become a bit battle hardened and "respectable" with each passing chapter. As for Sheeda… have you seen the anime? Throwing herself in front of the two greatest swordfighters in FE 1,3,11, and 12, just to save maybe a life or two. Best. Princess. Ever. **

**This chapter will contain more conversation and a look into Navarre's past. Until then…**

_**Q: Why did the swordmaster cross the road?**_

_**A: Because he knew he wasn't going to get hit. **_

_Transcript from directly after the Battle:_

_Navarre: Enjoying the battlefield Prince Marth?_

_Marth: … You were right._

_Navarre: In what respect?_

_Marth: Us royals… we are overly sheltered. I had no idea what a killing was like. If only I could have organized with my father for me to see warfare, to see how horrid it really is. When I escaped Altea, I only took a few lives doing so. Now I'm commanding an _army.

_Navarre: Don't be a prissy about it. My hands are stained with more blood than yours, especially since I used to use a knife to kill. _

_Marth: Hmph. I guess._

_Navarre: If you want your men to respect you, create a reputation for yourself. I suppose you are on your way however. Excellent counter-tactics you pulled today, even with relayed information. _

_Marth: I thank you for that._

_Navarre: Oh. One more thing. _

_Marth: Yes…?_

_Navarre: If you have a personality, your reason to exist often cancels out the regret on the battlefield. Ask yourself. What do you stand for? Goodbye, Prince Marth. The stench of dead bodies isn't good for you._

_Marth: ..._

**Navarre:**

Navarre walked briskly from the makeshift dining hall to his tent. He felt detached from the rest of the military, likely because of his individual unit status and his ability to isolate himself from everyone else. He pondered why he had even offered or agreed to join the military anyways. Individual killings, he reasoned, were much cleaner; not to mention his trade and his "passion". He was walking too fast to see a blonde haired mercenary bump into him. They both fell to the ground, instantly engaging in a stare off.

"Pardon me," the blonde mercenary said, breaking the tension. "I was just passing by. I didn't think anyone else started dinner this late."

"Hmph. I suppose you've met one of my kind then. It's a pity that the pit of my stomach is filled by a mere spoonful of carefully rationed oatmeal." Navarre examined him. The blonde, muscular mercenary was a member of the Talys royal guard. He bore the symbol of a squad captain, a high rank considering he was of the royal guard.

"Oh. It's you." The mercenary said. "I've heard stories of a red eyed assassin who could kill a man in broad daylight and get away with it. Special unit? They did a fine job with your rank."

"I suppose so." Navarre said nonchalantly.

"Not very talkative are you?" The mercenary grinned. "Never met a man like you. My name is Ogma. And you are?"

"Navarre."

"Nice to meet you." The mercenary was met with a still silent Navarre. "Do you talk this much usually?"

It was then that Navarre recognized him. "Weren't you once a famous gladiatorial marksman?"

"I was in fact… How would you know?"

"A 'killing legend' knows just about everything in the illegal business."

"Hmph. I'm slow I guess. It is only now that I noticed you were the Crimson Edge."

"Name carries you far doesn't it? Anyway, I must go. We'll keep in touch." The last line was meant to be friendly, but it came off too harshly. He offered a half smile, though it was more of a smirk. They parted paths with mutual respect for each other.

Navarre looked outside of his tent. He checked the time. He had slept at 7:00 PM and somehow woke up at 2:00 AM in the morning. There was a campfire with a lone figure sitting beside it. _It's only one of them, _Navarre thought as he walked over to the campfire. He sat face to face with the person on the other side of the flame, marveling at how beautifully constructed the campfire was.

"Hi Navarre." The voice was the same voice of the girl who had recruited him. Navarre nodded in her direction.

"Why are you out this late?" She asked. "Most of the Soldiers are asleep, save for the first watch."

"My internal clock is messed up. It was part of my past career. I slept at random times, ate anything I could get cheap, stayed anywhere I could without getting hunted."

"I see… Your past… are the myths true?"

"Some are."

"Which ones…?"

"The one about my eyes. They glow red because of a radioactive or magical accident that happened when I was young. Pretty sure that had something to do with my name as the Crimson Edge. The one about me being an orphan raised by a minister is true… Besides, rumors are meaningless anyways."

"I heard you killed 10 gunners with a single bullet."

"Anyone could do it if they possessed the skill for it. My gun is modified anyways."

"I suppose, but you're still the best shot I've seen in a while."

"Hmph."

"Say, Navarre?"

"Yes?"

"Remember when I asked you whether you wanted a true reason to fight?"

"I do. I suppose that's the reason I kept talking to you."

"The truth is… I don't know if we have one. I fight to protect my friend in the military, but that's no reason for someone like you to fight. I hear rumors that the conflict is bigger than what we think it is… Tell me Navarre, are you familiar with the story of the founding of Altea?"

"I believe so."

"The fight is to return the sacred weapon of the story to Altea… But why would someone steal it…? We think it's because they seek to resurrect the Earth Dragon Medeus… but we're not sure."

"Huh…"

"Sorry if I absorbed you into a conflict that you don't want to be in… I just thought we needed all the help we could get."

"Hm. I suppose you have. The world's greatest murderer fighting an Earth Dragon is not a pleasant story to tell the young."

"It'd be your redemption on the pages of history."

"Assuming there wasn't a meaningful murder I committed."

"Navarre… Do you seek the future?"

"… Possibly. I'm searching for someone I lost long ago. A future would mean more time to look."

"Really?"

"It's one of the reasons I chose my trade, other than revenge for those who murdered the minister that took care of me. I've travelled the continent for who knows how long in hope that I might find her again."

"Navarre, help us then. The future is what we fight for… A future free of control by Medeus."

Naavarre shifted. The girl stood up and walked next to him.

"Fire. It's a magician's greatest weapon and man's greatest discovery, not to mention the reason we have done so much. Yet it is so deadly as well…"

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

They stood together for a while in silence.

"You should sleep." Navarre said.

"I really can't," the girl replied

"…"

"I haven't even introduced myself have I?"

"You haven't."

"My name is Sheeda… I suppose you know everything else about me though."

"I know enough."

They spent another moment in silence.

"Go to sleep, Sheeda," Navarre said. "Someone will be wondering why you're up."

"They won't be, but if you insist…"

"Which I do."

"Goodnight Navarre."

Sheeda smiled at him. For a moment, Navarre's heart stopped pumping ice into his veins and decided to allow him to smile genuinely at her. However, his smile faded when he remembered what caring for someone resulted in the last time. He turned away back to his tent to lubricate his KILL-EDGE before the fight.

**Ogma**

A battle followed the next day.

Ogma smiled to himself. He recalled his life as a gladiatorial marksman and remembered the day that Princess Sheeda had paid to save his life from execution.

_Don't die. Please don't die. _

His unit was assigned to take the bridge from the Macedonians. However, he found that the bridge was much too large and fragile to take by force. The snipers were occupied at the moment by supporting Prince Marth to recruit the sage Wendell and Princess Sheeda was attempting a rescue of Hardin's troops. The vehicle division had orders to secure the northern village and attempt to retrieve a "package".

Ogma soon realized he had no reinforcements. Sheeda's words rang out in his head again. The units he had were too fragile and too slow to use a feigned retreat and too few to scatter. He decided to allow the Fighters to fire their explosives.

The first round of explosives did considerable damage to the enemy tanks on the other side. However, that did nothing but provoke them to fire. Cord's explosives units registered as "lost" on the map.

"Cord, can you hear me?"

"Yes sir! My unit is scattered, but I don't think anyone got hit."

"Stay scattered. We can't have a whole group of you going out."

"Yes Sir!"

Ogma received another message.

"Ogma can you hear me?"

"Princess!"

"Ogma, do you need support?"

"We should be fine Princess."

"What about all those tanks?"

"Our explosives men are doing the best they can, but they can't pierce them…"

"I'll be there at once!"

Just then, Ogma heard another voice.

"Blast! We can't hold them! They're going around!"

"Stay put!" Sheeda replied. "I'll be there in a second!"

Ogma sighed. He couldn't wait and lose more men. The northern village was getting hammered and the vehicle division needed to wait there. Marth was a bit too slow for him to be of any use during the battle. Just then his radar began to glitch. He found that his group was listed as "lost" on the radar. His group scattered just as the bomb shell hit.

"Ogma! Don't die!"

"I won't."

He clenched his teeth and ordered another barrage of missiles. He took out his MARK-STEEL and began to pick off infantry units that were crossing the bridge to pick off the scattering army.

The tanks began to move towards the bridge. They lined up for another barrage.

Just then, they both exploded. A sniper had hit the fuel compartments of both tanks and caused a massive explosion. The bridge was lucky to survive.

**Sheeda:**

"Where did that come from…"

Sheeda marveled at the massive damage caused by the explosion. She didn't have enough time though, as the anti air was continuing to fire at her helicopter. She carefully avoided well placed rockets that flew towards her.

She avoided the last one and turned to fire upon the anti air. She found that the anti air guns had been destroyed and their operators killed. A message went through to her.

"I have to thank you for distracting the tanks and vehicles enough for me to pull this off. Thank you Sheeda."

"...No. Thank _you _Navarre."

**Navarre:**

Navarre was caught in a firefight.

He had disabled the last tank, but could not put a bullet through it fast enough before the gunner and the pilot could get out to fight him.

He was at a disadvantage as well. His KILL-EDGE was only effective in medium to long range combat and his MARK-STEEL and MARK-IRON were both broken.

So his only weapon left was an automatic revolver. The magazine size was an impressive six bullets.

Navarre cursed his luck.

He rolled out of the way of one bullet before he got his shoulder pad taken away by another. He fired at the gunner. The gunner, having no idea that the pistol was automatic, fell by the 5th shot.

One shot left.

Navarre knew he couldn't reload his gun, and that there was no one able to reinforce him. He recalled that Sheeda had left to engage another pilot in a dogfight situation.

He was shot at again.

All three of the bullets only removed pieces of his skin. He immediately reached for a painkiller drug. He took it at once, before realizing that the pilot had his knife drawn.

Navarre took a blind shot.

He hit the knife, sending it flying. He had no choice but to pull out the KILL-EDGE and hope to get a lucky shot.

A shot rang out.

Prince Marth had hit the pilot in the back of the head.

"You saved all of our lives during the battle, so I thought I might do you a favor," Marth said.

"I owe you one," Navarre replied.

He hobbled over to Sister Lena after the battle and got his skin replaced and his wounds tended to.

"Sir, I don't recommend fighting in the next battle," Lena warned. "You're in no shape to go raid a castle."

"Perhaps, but I'm afraid I have a special job to do this battle."

"Very well."

He met with Ogma after the battle.

Ogma greeted him with an outstretched hand. "I didn't know your kind could be so cunning. How did you know where to aim?"

Navarre smiled and shook hands with him. "Blind luck, a bit of skill, and a near depleted armor piercing magazine."

"You tricky bastard."

Navarre walked next to Sheeda after the battle.

"You live up to the legends," Sheeda remarked. "How do you do it?"

"Fire. It's a magician's greatest weapon and man's greatest discovery."

**Next chapter will be a half-battle and more character development.**


	5. Chapter 4: After the Storm

_Transcript:_

_Marth: Navarre, are you able to fight in this battle?_

_Navarre: Yes. _

_Marth: Alright. Your orders are as follows. You're going to be warped with magic to the south gate. After that, you are to kill any units. _

_Navarre: Alright._

_Marth: One more thing. They're going to come up with heavy loot… You're free to take any that you deem fit. _

_Navarre: understood. _

Movement. Attack. Instinct. Kill. Fire.

Smoke rose.

Navarre had discovered a flamethrower unfortunately mounted to a couple meager defenses set up to stop his charge. He admired it for a second, but then realized he couldn't keep it for very long. Besides, he rarely fought in close range combat. Regardless, he still kept admiring it, along with all the strange trinkets and weapons he had looted. However, something else caught his eye.

Intelligence. He had somehow killed a scientist working within the palace.

He reached for the flash drive that the scientist was holding. He pocketed it, noticing that there were papers attached to the scientist as well. This might be his lucky breakthrough.

Navarre dropped his weapons to take a better look at the papers. He saw complicated drawings that were barely decipherable. Trying to remember his schooling, he determined that this was not written in code at all. The structure was humanoid, not flat like a tank. It resembled…

_A mech. I wonder if we can build one._

Navarre turned to leave, hearing shouting that the Alteans had won.

Unfortunately, there were two vehicle divisions and a mini-tank still trying to escape.

_Gah! Not enough time. I need to…_

Navarre pocketed the papers and the flash drive. Certain that he hadn't been seen just yet, he crept over to the Flamethrower, and the bag of trinkets. He then remembered Sheeda was flying above him right now. He had one shot, and he had to make sure that there was no friendly fire.

He shot the base pillar.

The roof fell.

Surprisingly, he took care of the mini-tank handily. All that was left was about 20 vehicles. But suddenly they stopped. Were they about to take him as their hostage? Navarre gripped his revolver, prepared to at least die trying to escape.

"Altean. We need you to come with us," their commander said. "You will be treated as a prisoner of war in accordance with international law."

Navarre grimaced. Being a prisoner was the most expected event to occur.

He had a sudden idea. He took aim at Sheeda's helicopter which was right above him at the moment. If he could just force her auto flare to deploy…

He fired two shots with a MARK-IRON at the base of the ship. The gunship turned.

He knew he was going to die but this division could not be allowed to secure the information or the loot.

Sheeda launched a single missile into the division. Everything in that region registered as lost immediately.

Navarre was thrown into a corner by the massive damage caused. He knew that he shouldn't look up. He might be mistaken for an enemy and attacked.

Suddenly, his thoughts went blank.

"_NO!" The shots fired towards the Minister. Nothing came close to the feeling of extreme mutual pain that he shared with his father. "Navarre… carry on."_

The memory flashed again.

"_Don't leave me!" Navarre cried out to his friend. "I'm sorry, I have to! My parents have found me. They said I would be home." _

"_Alright. I'll be looking for you… You'll keep in touch with me right?"_

"_Yes. Always."_

Another Memory flashed before him.

"_Navarre."_

"_Yes?"_

"_I'm joining a dance company! Won't that be fun?"_

"_I suppose."_

"_Hey Navarre. Are the Crimson Edge stories true?"_

"_If they are… Then what will you do?"_

"_Discipline you for being a bad boy."_

"STOP! I don't want to see this!" Navarre cried. "Please!"

"_I'm sorry sir, but she was lost in the dance company move. You'll be lucky to find her again, because the company building took a huge hit."_

"_No…"_

"Get out of my head!"

"_Navarre." She said. "I haven't seen you in some time, but I know you're still out there looking for me. I'm… not even sure if I remember you or not. But let's put it this way. You will find me one day."_

"_Don't die. Please don't die. You'll find me soon."_

Oddly enough, the shelter for the loot he had was still safe, as were the drawings. What in the world had just happened to him? Somehow he had gotten out of that trouble alive.

People were going to be looking for him now. He grabbed his radio and told Marth that he needed someone to come pick him up.

"You caused quite the explosion," Cain remarked as he drove Navarre out of the ruined Palace courtyard.

"It was actually Sheeda who got it done," Navarre replied.

"Huh. Say do you know the Princess personally?"

"Not really. Wait… she's royalty?"

"I thought her stunning clothing gave it away. Anyway, don't let the generals hear you say that. They're quite fussy about titles and what not."

"Hmph. Like I care."

Cain smiled to himself and shut up for the rest of the ride.

-9-

The soldiers killed some time. Some of the more fiery youngsters sparred or visited local women. Others spent their time readying for the next battle.

For Ogma, it was games.

Ogma finished defeating Abel and Cain in two separate games in a game of Defense A-12. A popular game among soldiers, this game emphasized battlefield luck and unit positioning. Only the generals could come close to dousing his fire in this game. He had one more challenge awaiting him. Marth, whose tactics had gotten better in a short amount of time, could probably beat him at his best.

Just then Navarre sat down in the seat in front of him.

"Greetings Crimson Edge, what brings you here?" Ogma asked, puzzled.

"A game, perhaps?"

"Alright, I can take you on."

-9-

Navarre smiled. After watching three of Ogma's matches, he realized that he needed to play an unorthodox military strategy instead of getting pinned early as many of Ogma's peers did.

Easy enough…?

Perhaps.

Navarre began with a feigned opening, sacrificing three of his most powerful pieces early game. Ogma had concentrated most of his smaller forces into beating Navarre's pieces, saving his larger pieces for a charge.

Navarre realized that Ogma was a defensive player then. He could not tempt him to take pieces at a high price unless the conditions would say otherwise. So he had to craft an opening for Ogma to take that seemed safe enough.

Surprisingly, his craft worked. It took about three turns to successfully pull off a pseudo feigned retreat.

Quickly, Navarre encircled Ogma's main force with his faster units. It was game over for Ogma until he rolled a lucky six on last 2 units. He began to continue a lucky day.

Two units each. Navarre had two fast units and Ogma had two high defense units.

Twelve minutes later Navarre had edged Ogma after Ogma took a risk he shouldn't have taken.

"Nice match." Ogma shook hands with Navarre.

"You shouldn't have fallen for a lot of those ploys."

"I shouldn't have. Very unorthodox player you are. Not like the stereotypical charge strategies I see."

"That's what usually beats an unorthodox player though. Besides, if I have better tactics than you, at least know that you can probably beat me in close range combat."

"That's what matters most right?"

"Perhaps."

-98-

"_Your death is meaningless. Your thoughts are meaningless. Why are you even alive? Tell me. TELL ME!"_

"_Stop Marcus! He did nothing wrong. His talent…"_

"_Shut up Elizabeth! Navarre must be great. He MUST pursue the path of an intellectual. Not some lowly musician, cutthroat, athlete, NO!"_

_A young Navarre stood there dazed. At thirteen years old, he was the opposite of everything his father wanted him to be. After all, isn't that what teenagers were?_

_The dream shifted._

_In a matter of a year, the level of disappointments that Navarre had created reached an all time high. Navarre knew he had to run away. _

_The first few days were good, but the next days were filled with hunger. He had spent all the pocket money he had on a few cheap desserts._

_He wasn't to be found by his parents either. _

"_I guess this is what I wanted. Freedom from the grind of school and a future."_

_Navarre cried. It was the first time he had in over a year. The tears spilt down his face and onto the pavement. He walked a few more blocks, begging for food and a place to live. _

_A job in a minister's church was the last place he had expected to make money. _

_The minister was much like him. A so-called lousy piece of trash… or so named by his parents. However, he had successfully carried out his life's dream of adding more names to the kingdom of God. But the minister couldn't get married. He couldn't find someone who he thought was genuine and thus had no children. _

_Navarre was like the child he never have. Pretty soon, he filed for adoption of the child, allowing Navarre to return to school and have a safe place to live. _

_A happy history…_

Navarre awoke from his dream. He couldn't figure out why he had had this dream. Was it a reminder? Did someone finally need to know about his past?

The campfire still burned early in the morning.

Having fallen asleep on the log, Princess Sheeda had forgotten about the fire, which now was slowly fading similarly to a dwarf star. Her sleep was completely undisturbed.

She suddenly awoke to footsteps coming near her. Drawing her pistol, she prepared for anything.

Luckily enough, it was a figure very familiar.

Navarre.

"Hi Navarre! What brings you here?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to talk I guess."

"Alright I see."

"Sheeda… Does the past shape you for good or for bad?"

"Well… I'm inclined to think it's for good… Why do you ask?"

"I don't know… Hey. Would you like to hear my story?"

"Hm… Okay."


End file.
